


Split

by Darky_Parky



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Affairs, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Memories, Mentions of Death, One Shot, Repressed Memories, Snow, Theory based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-09 01:38:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17397629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darky_Parky/pseuds/Darky_Parky
Summary: "Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees, accented by the impact of his ax. A crack like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes to the ground."





	Split

Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees, accented by the impact of his ax. A crack like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes to the ground.

Damien looked upon his work. His chest rising and falling rapidly, his face red from both the work and his fading anger. He took a moment to catch his breath before raising his ax over his head. The blade bore down onto the wood, segmenting it.

With each chop, a little less anger. With each chop, a little less sorrow.

Once done, Damien gathered the wood, loading it up in a wheelbarrow. He wheeled the firewood toward a small cabin in the middle of the forest. He grabbed a few logs and hauled them in upon his shoulder as he walked inside.

Damien sighed at the sight of his gray cabin. He never knew why every time he walked in he was disappointed. He knows that no matter how much he hopes that the cabin will remain vacant of any other conscious being. Or at least he should.

He tapped the tips of his shoes onto the welcome mat, shaking off the snow. Damien then walked over to the fireplace and knelt down to toss the few logs inside of it. He stood up and approached the bookshelf, obtaining his photo album. Damien opened the cover seeing what was left while he walked back over to the fireplace.

He was running out of pages, he was down to his days of being mayor. He flipped through the pages before he came upon a photo of himself at his desk, working hard on some paper work. The sunlight filtering through tall windows giving him almost angelic lighting.

Damien remembered this one. His district attorney had taken this. Well, they weren't district attorney just yet. He allowed them to stay in his office to keep him company. Many of his coworkers joked that they might as well had worked there with how much help they had given Damien.

Damien was thrilled when he heard that they were running for district attorney. They were going to work together. They were going to do great things together.

Damien tore out the page and crumpled it before throwing it into the fireplace. The next page showcased the district attorney and their dopey grin. Damien threw it along with logs. He then went on like this tearing out pages and throwing them with the rest, not giving them much thought until he came upon an odd photo.

It was of the district attorney. Sleeping peacefully in bed, the sunlight filtering through the windows of the manor, giving them the same angelic lighting as Damien's photo.

This was after Poker Night. He went to go check on them, making sure that they were okay after a night like that. How did this get here?

The old wood of the cabin creaked, bringing Damien back to the world around him. He closed the photo album and set it aside. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches. He slid it open and pulled out a match before striking it against the box.

The small flame burned all it could from the tip of the match before going onto the wood. Slowly it traveled, dangerously close to Damien's fingertips. He was memorized by the flickering light. It reminded him of his sister and her fiery rage. He wondered about her as the flame burned down to his fingers. Damien didn't flinch.

He threw the burned out match aside and relighted the next one. This time, he didn't get caught up in his thoughts and tossed the match into the pile of flammable items. The fire ate away at the photographs, taking away the memories they hold. The photographs curled before the fire moved to the wood. 

The old cabin felt a little less horrid as the warmth of the fire began to spread. Damien warmed his hands, watching the flames dance.

Damien closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Celine."

* * *

Somewhere much farther than Damien's cabin was a large stone castle that sat above a land of fire. The wind carried ash and the screams of the anguished, but Celine paid no mind. She was standing atop her castle, watching the world around her burn.

The world had been burning for quite sometime now, but she made no move to stop it. Because were she to do so, she'll burn just like everyone else. Though, she dreads it, she must stay in the castle.

Celine sighed. This reminded her of when she was married.

Mark seemed like he wanted to spend every second with Celine, but he was always off doing whatever work that was to be done. Meanwhile Celine stayed at home, bored out of her mind. Then her husband would come home with no energy to spend any time with his wife.

Luckily, William was there to keep her sanity. Or. . . perhaps it was unfortunate he was there considering what that lead up to. Oh, those late nights at home. They once served Celine happiness, but now they only grant her bitterness as time moves on.

She wished things were different. She wished she didn't wrong every man in her life. She wished she never went back to that manor. She wished she could have foreseen her doom.

But these days, wishes don't come true. Only nightmares do.

Celine tore her eyes away from the crackling fire and turned to the inside of her castle. She strode over to her kitchen and opened the pantries, pulling out a bottle of wine. She uncorked it and took a large swig.

It's very saddening that this is how she spends days now. Drinking away her feelings. She can't even really get drunk. She just enjoyed the bitterness. 

Celine wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She sauntered back over to the window to watch the world - it was the only thing good to do these days. She leaned on the sill and took another swig.

Celine rolled her neck uncomfortably. She's been dealing with a crick ever since the 13th and it's gotten worse ever since. Damien has told her that he has something similar. A pain in his abdomen that has only grown worse. The two didn't know why they had this pain it just. . . is.

" _Celine._ "

_Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees, accented by the impact of his ax. A crack like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes to the ground._

"Damien."

* * *

Damien was seated on his hardwood floor while Celine was sitting on her stone one. The two were staring off into the far distance, their eyes trained on one the fire.

There was a long silence.

"We cannot go on living like this," Damien spoke. 

"It's misery," Celine said, taking a sip from her wine. Her tone told Damien it was not an agreement, simply a fact.

"We must find a way out of this."

"We would have to find another vessel," Celine argued. 

"Though, vessels are not hard to find."

"Especially bad ones." Celine took another swig.

"Hardships are nothing to fear."

"Survival is something to fear."

"What are we to do if we cannot escape this?" Celine set down her wine bottle and pondered on this. Though Damien's suggestion maybe a tad too extreme, she wanted for this to end. She wanted for this misery to come to an end. But she knows better.

"We substitute."

"We use people," stated Damien, anger arising in his voice.

"To serve us and bring us closer to our goal."

"Whatever will happen once we reach it?"

Celine shrugged. "That's something we'll find out once we get there."

They sighed, straightening their tie. "Very well." They rolled their neck until they heard a resounding crack. "Whom shall we prey on today?"

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd give this concept a shot, I hope you guys enjoyed this little story, if you did I have a lot more where that came from!


End file.
